


can i get your number?

by choriarty



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, M/M, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 06:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choriarty/pseuds/choriarty
Summary: Genji just graduated from physio, and his friends have one hell of a night planned to celebrate.But when Genji finds himself in an omnic club, someone catches his eye.





	can i get your number?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greatsenpai](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=greatsenpai).



> i wrote this v fast for a friend because i was on some kind of writing high and also im love my friends

It was Genji’s first time out since…

Since.

And of course the first place he went was the arcade. Now that he had officially graduated from physio by his doctor, he was going to enjoy it. His friends had visited while he was still bed-ridden, when he couldn’t walk from the bed to the door without collapsing from pain. None of them treated him any different now that he looked like a character from a video game.

Someone (Hana) had beaten his high score on one of the games. He made an outrageously fake scowl and gave a fake lecture to her, making her and the others laugh until they cried at the accuracy of his Hanzo impression. 

Once he knew that he wasn’t the top player for his favourite game, his friends had to pry him from the controls in order to go other places. In the end they bargained and came to the conclusion that they would skip the shopping trip and stay at the arcade _only if_ he agreed to go out and made a bar run with them.

Three hours, two pubs, and one redeemed high score later he was here.

Genji had never been in an omnic club before. Well-- ‘omnic’ as in they served both omnics and humans. He could pick out the scare few scattered through the crowd, although most of them seemed to be with a shining metal date. If he was being honest, he didn’t know how to act.

But if he went by his friends’ lead, he was supposed to treat it like any other club, since they had long since melted into the mass of dancers. Genji was left at the bar with his bright blue drink, swirling the ice around and watching how it spun. He was pretty sure that the bartender was going to come over any second now and ask if he was okay. Genji looked like he got stood up.

He threw back the last of his sweet drink and hopped off his stool. Genji might as well try and find his friends before they found dates and leave him alone. With his orange hoodie, the green LED lights on his body were hidden away, and he didn’t have to worry about his low riding skinny jeans hiding any other ones. Compared to all of the pretty omnics and people wearing proper club clothes, no one would give him a second glance.

Genji was on the edge of the crowd when something caught his eye. His head snapped to the side like he was a crow that had found something shiny and looked for whatever it was that he saw. There, just off the end of the crowd, someone was sitting in a booth. There had been a trend sweeping through the omnic population of painting of sanding oneself matte instead of a shiny silver, yet this one had not yet done so. Their silver faceplate reflected all of the purple and pink and white lights that danced around the room.

No one else was with them, and no one looked to be coming over from the bar. Before he knew what he was doing, Genji’s feet carried him to the offending booth with the sparkly omnic. In another life, where he had never had to become mostly metal and plastic, he would have slid into the seat confidently and begun seducing them.

But he was not that Genji anymore.

His feet stopped there at the table, moving neither forward or backward, and all of his words seemed to get caught right behind his teeth. Insecurity about his new body slammed through him for the first time that day and he felt sick.

And then the omnic spoke.

“Hello,” said a smooth and distinctly deep voice. It was extremely pleasant.

“Hi,” Genji replied.

“Did you need the table?”

“Ah, no--!” Genji fumbled. “No I… just wanted to come over and… talk, I guess.”

Then the omnic tilted its head and Genji could feel that they were smiling. “Then where are my manners. Come, sit with me.”

Genji followed the words automatically. The omnic sat across from him, elbows on the table and hands clasped together. “May I ask the name of my visitor?”

“Oh, right-- Genji. My name is Genji.”

Embarrassment at his obvious lack of communication skills washed over him and flipped his gut. Yet, the omnic had shown no kind of body language that gave away their discomfort. In fact, they looked interested in him.

“Genji,” and oh, did Genji love the way his name sounded with that voice. “I am Zenyatta, it is a pleasure to have such a handsome person come to my booth.”

“Handsome…?” Genji repeated dumbly. “Ah-- but you-- you caught my eye from across the room. Your head is really shiny and gorgeous-- I mean your face! Or, er, whatever you would like me to call it.”

Once again surprising Genji, Zenyatta only chuckled at his display. Genji pictured chimes in the wind, or the hefty bell at the shrine back home. He felt the urge to clap twice and bow his head.

“You flatter me-- though my head only reflects the lights because I haven’t quite caught on to the current trends. Thank you for saying so.”

“But I mean it! It’s really nice. It’s pretty. With the lights, it kind of looks like you have a mini galaxy around you, or like you’re a galaxy yourself.”

Genji didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified of what he just said. His younger self applauded him for the smooth line, but his current self worried that he sounded idiotic.

Zenyatta froze in surprise, and just as Genji was about to backtrack, the omnic avoided eye contact and fidgeted with his fingers. Genji could have sworn that it was bashfulness.

“Has anyone told you that you have a certain way with words?”

(Hanzo did, but it was after Genji swore up a storm.)

“Not really.”

Zenyatta looked at him again and tilted his head. “Then let me be the first,” he hummed. “And here I was planning to charm _you._ It seems that you have beaten me to the punch.”

Genji felt his gut swoop with warmth (and desire) and he used his newfound courage to extend a hand.

“Maybe you can repay me by accepting a dance.”

“I suppose that I have no other choice,” Zenyatta said with only affection and took the hand offered to him.

Genji didn’t remember walking to the floor nor wading through the crowd, yet there he was. Within the mass of bodies he was pressed closer and closer to the omnic that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of. He placed his hands onto Zenyatta’s waist and was stabbed with lust once he truly felt how small it was compared to his hips. If he wrapped his hands around that skinny waist, could his fingers touch?

Zenyatta hung his arms behind Genji’s neck and together they swayed and moved with the music, almost drowned out by the loud bass. With each passing minute Genji felt his former confidence show itself. He slipped his hands down and held onto Zenyatta’s hips, let his fingers tug on the hem of those loose pants he wore. He let them slowly drift closer and closer until almost no space existed between them. Less than an inch forward, maybe even less than a millimetre, and he would be pressing against Zenyatta.

Suddenly the moment and the space separating them was lost when one of the bodies nearby shoved into them. Even with his sweater and Zenyatta’s shirt between them, he could feel every curve and piston and shape of Zenyatta’s body pressed against him. Hunger punched him in the dick when he comprehended that their pelvises were thrust together and his grip on those metal hips tightened.

“S-sorry,” he muttered, thinking that the music would deafen him.

But as he tried to pull away, strong hands pulled him back and pressed them even closer than before. Suddenly their small height difference struck him and he realized that those steel arms wrapped around the back of his neck could clamp them together with little effort. His eyes shot to Zenyatta’s slits and he watched for anything-- any kind of sign that he was hesitant-- but there was none.

A new song started and as they moved their bodies would grind together. The air seemed to thicken and get hotter with every caress of their hips and soon enough Genji couldn’t tell his body from Zenyatta’s. He didn't know where he ended and Zenyatta began, nor did he care.

With the fog in his head, Genji barely registered that they had been grinding together for the whole song. It was only when Zenyatta leaned forward and pressed his faceplate against the side of Genji’s head that he regained some cognitive function.

“I find myself tired of dancing.”

New purpose burning through Genji’s veins, he lead Zenyatta through the bodies; however, when he reached clear air he realized that he had not thought that far ahead. Thankfully, Zenyatta had, and took the lead. They walked and walked all the way to the very back of the club where the lights barely touched and the booths were empty of life.

“Come, sit with me,” he said the same as when they met.

Genji slid into the booth in some kind of lust-addled daze. The seats were cold and it was hard to see where he put his feet. Soon after Zenyatta slipped in beside him. Genji had not expected this outcome, but he was happy to stay in a dark corner together and touch Zenyatta some more. He wondered if he would get Zenyatta’s number after this, if they could meet somewhere brighter than a nightclub and see every line and groove in Zenyatta’s face.

Then Genji was pulled from his thoughts as Zenyatta hooked a leg over him and promptly sat in his lap, legs straddling him. Those metal hands returned to their spot behind Genji’s neck, and as Zenyatta leaned forwards Genji could not help but gravitate towards him also.

“May I have another attempt to woo you?” he breathed, and Genji could do nothing but nod.

Zenyatta used the leverage he had on Genji’s neck to pull his himself closer and slot their hips together. Genji sucked in a breath through his teeth and wondered what he looked like to Zenyatta, if he could show his emotions well enough while having his face covered. Was he attractive to others? To omnics? Should he have told Zenyatta that he wasn’t an omnic? That he was only a disfigured human?

“You are thinking a lot,” Zenyatta hummed and snapped Genji back from his thoughts. “I hope that I may help dismiss any lingering speculation.”

Genji had to look up at Zenyatta from this angle and didn’t notice the hand that had stolen downwards until he felt it press against his crotch. He gasped loudly and his legs twitched at the touch which he had not had for months. Zenyatta gently caressed the tender mesh there, humming with interest with every reaction he pulled from Genji.

With a particularly firm press of those sinful fingers Genji choked and thrust his hips upwards, making Zenyatta bounce. His hands scrabbled at those metal hips, the ass, as he fidgeted underneath them omnic.

“Zenyatta,” he groaned. “I… it’s going to--”

Genji bit his whine back as his modesty plate pulled back and his quickly thickening cock popped free. He whimpered at the feeling of air on him after being tucked away for so long, too sour to try and use it. Part of him was glad that he hadn’t yet, that Zenyatta would be the first hand to touch his new cock.

“Beautiful…” Zenyatta breathed reverently.

Genji whimpered and gripped tightly onto the metal ass underneath those soft sweatpants when Zenyatta’s skillful hands wrapped around his dick. He swiped a thumb over the slit and watched in awe as lubricant seeped from it. It was torture to try and keep quiet as Zenyatta teased more lube from him and spread it over his cock, his grip too gentle to douse the flames burning inside of Genji.

He was breathing heavier and heavier inside of his mask as Zenyatta seemed to take his sweet time exploring and playing with him. He thumbed underneath the glans (Genji choked on a moan), traced the underside of his length (Genji shuddered and leaned closer), and pressed down curiously on the soft material surrounding the opening his cock had slipped out of.

“Do not keep quiet on my account,” Zenyatta said with an amused tone, which somehow got Genji even more hot and bothered. He could vividly see the smile that Zenyatta had.

So he let himself be louder. He stopped biting back gasps, stopped choking on moans, and soon enough he was a symphony of lust beneath Zenyatta. His feet jerked and his toes curled every time Zenyatta would return back to the head of his cock.

“Wonderful, beautiful,” Zenyatta sighed, the praise going straight to Genji’s already painfully hard erection. “Your voice is like music to my ears, Genji. Though there is one more thing that I wish to see.”

Genji only whimpered at first, all capability to think or speak normally void from his mind. Then Zenyatta squeezed the base of his cock and Genji jerked violently, gripping Zenyatta’s ass like he could fly away if he let go.

“I need words, Genji,” Zenyatta cooed.

“Yes-- yeah,” Genji gasped. “Whatever you want-- please, Zenyatta-- oh fuck.”

“I would like to see you come, Genji,” the omnic sighed in a tone that was must have been illegal somewhere. “Do you think you could do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, please-- Zenyatta, please.”

“Then your wish is my command.”

And with that Zenyatta’s grip turned firm, almost tight enough that it wobbled on the edge of painful, and stroked Genji from base to tip. Genji’s hips thrust into that hand on their own, making Zenyatta bounce with him. Zenyatta soaked in the beautiful chorus of _‘ah, ah, ah,’s_ with every stroke, memorizing the vision of Genji shaking like a leaf under him.

Zenyatta moved his hand up and down faster and faster until Genji was a complete mess of whimpers and whines. “You are so very cute, Genji. Do you think you can come?”

Genji nodded frantically, wanting more than anything to feel release. He could feel his cock twitch, his toes curl, his head bend forward until he was pressed against Zenyatta’s chest. It was hard to hear with the loud music and his own voice filling his ears, but he could have sworn that he heard Zenyatta’s voice, just as wrecked as Genji felt, murmur “Genji.”

Orgasm hit him like a freight train, his hips thrusting up and stuttering midair as clear lubricant spurted from his cock. His voice broke halfway through his painful groan. There was almost no way that he could see it in the dark, but he could feel it. It dripped down his crotch and tickled his perineum and coated the metal hand that stroked him still. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Zenyatta brought him down from orgasm. It was just about the time when the hand was beginning to overstimulate him that it was pulled away. Genji breathed as if his lungs were starved of oxygen. He kept himself pressed close to Zenyatta, just holding him. Zenyatta felt it also and let himself sag over the cyborg.

Then Genji’s head snapped up. “You-- you never…”

Zenyatta batted away the hand that was about to reach for his crotch. “Mm, but that is where you are wrong,” he hummed. “Your show was more pleasing to watch than you know.”

The thought of Zenyatta shaking, coming just from catching and listening to Genji, sent another spike of want through him and he groaned. It was too damn early to feel like he could go again. Suddenly he wanted to know what lay behind those soft pants that Zenyatta wore, wanted to explore with his eyes and his mouth and his fingers. It was a shame that he already came.

“Though, it was messier than I imagined it would be.”

Genji tilted his head in confusion before he looked down and saw it; the lights glinting off of something wet spattered over that small waist of Zenyatta’s. Genji turned red under his mask and fumbled for an apology until Zenyatta shooshed him.

“It was I who asked for this,” he said. “... yet I do with that I wore a longer shirt.”

Zenyatta’s shirt, which was cut like a crop top, definitely did _not_ cover the mess dripping between the pistons there. In a burst of chivalry, Genji moved them enough to reach back and pull his hoodie off. 

“Oh, I cannot ask this of you--”

“You’re not,” Genji said. “I’m offering.”

There was a pause where Zenyatta considered his options, and then he gratefully accepted the sweater, shifting off of Genji in order to put it on. However, it was not as purely selfless as Genji made it out to be, since he immensely enjoyed the sight of Zenyatta wearing his clothes.

“Genji!”

Hana and Lucio waved at Genji from where they were at the edge of the crowd and jogged over.

“Jeez, we were looking everywhere for you!” Hana pouted.

“Doesn’t look like you missed us, though,” Lucio smiled and wagged his eyebrows.

“Sh-shut up!” Genji retorted eloquently. “You’re just jealous!”

“Bicker later!” Hana said. “Let’s go! There are still three more clubs to hit before we go home!”

As his friends began towards the exit, Genji looked frantically between them and Zenyatta. 

“I…” he trailed off. “Can I get your number? I want to see you again.”

Zenyatta actually looked surprised, as if he had never had someone say that to him before. An irrational spike of anger at whoever those people were burned through him like a flash fire.

“Yes,” Zenyatta beamed, the smile in his voice impossible not to see. “I would like that very much.”

 

The rest of the night passed like a dream, Genji waking up in his bed with only a vague memory of the other clubs him and his friends had gone to. 

_Did I dream that up?_

But he was not wearing his hoodie, and in a pocket a piece of paper burned a hole through his pants. He reached down just to feel it, make sure it was real, and it was. It had been real.

He entered the phone number into his cell.

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written smut in a year lol.
> 
> anyways i wrote this for @greatsenpai on twitter!!!! check out their art and love them


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